


Correct Etiquette

by Moiself



Series: Gutters: the lovin' adventures of baby boy Deano & his Daddy Romie [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Baby Boy Dean, Blindfolds, Daddy Roman, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 14:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11404344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moiself/pseuds/Moiself
Summary: Circumstances align to give Roman the perfect opening to act on his attraction to Dean.





	Correct Etiquette

**Author's Note:**

> A prequel to Gutters - how Roman & Dean became Daddy & baby boy. 
> 
> Set way back in Shield days just before they officially debuted on Raw.

A loud knock caught Roman’s attention just as his hand settled on the shower screen. Stepping back, he wrapped his discarded towel around his waist and headed to see who was at the door. With a bit of luck, it would be Dean back from his snack run. At least then he would be able to take his time with his personal maintenance regime safe in the knowledge it wouldn’t be cut short so he could play doorman.

Fortune was clearly smiling on him. Dean was indeed on the other side of the door, fist raised in readiness to knock again, mouth a little slack with the surprise of it being opened so quickly.

“The hunter has returned! I have granola bars! And water! And things!”

“Where’d you go for it? All the way back to Montgomery?”

“Machine on this floor was out of order. I had to go next one up. Got talking to Jack for a bit, sorry,” Dean unloaded his haul onto the narrow table that served as desk, dresser and tv stand all in one, glancing around the room, noticing at last that he and Roman seemed to be alone as he sat down next to his stash. 

“Where’s Seth?”

“Punk’s. He took the spare keycard so he said don’t wait up.”

“Did our little brother get a booty call? Aw, that’s cute! They grow up so quick nowadays.”

Roman fixed Dean with a look that seemed borrowed from a more well established member of his family. Instantly Dean’s expression changed from crowing to contrite.

“Be nice. We don’t know what’s going on. If Seth decides there’s something he wants to tell us, he will.”

Leaving a quiet Dean to the diversions of his phone and his vending machine picnic, Roman returned to the bathroom to pick up where he had left off, hopping out of the shower again halfway through at the realisation that he had left his detangling comb sitting on top of his pillow. Stepping back into the bedroom only as far as needed to be able to reach the bed, the unmistakable sounds of porn could be heard coming from Dean’s phone. The man himself seemed engrossed in what he was watching, still sat on the chair at the desk. 

Eyes flicking up on instinct, Roman caught a clear view of the screen over Dean's shoulder. It showed two men, one blindfolded and naked, sitting astride the lap of the other larger, clothed man. 

Interesting. 

Snatching up his comb, Roman beat a hasty and silent retreat back to his shower. He allowed his thoughts to wander as he conditioned his hair. 

On one hand, preferences in porn didn't _necessarily_ have any bearing to real life preferences, and even if Dean's choice of viewing material did indicate that his inclinations weren't entirely vanilla, it didn't _necessarily_ mean that they might mesh with Roman’s own. 

But then again…

All the times that Dean’s near ceaseless activity had been calmed with a look or a hand on his shoulder, all the times that he had bloomed under a word or two of praise and encouragement, all the times that Roman had looked up from whatever he was doing just in time to catch Dean quickly looking away...surely they were hinting at some common interest. 

Roman had to take a few moments to will his quickening cock into behaving before he left the cocoon of the water. He had long since given up on trying to deny his attraction to Dean, at least to himself. Plenty of nights since they met down in FCW had been spent fucking his fist, imagining what Dean would look like beneath him. Drying himself off and dressing in a tank top and loose shorts, he resolved that once they had their first real main roster match after Elimination Chamber, and the madness calmed down a little, he would take the chance to feel things out, see if he could bring those Dean centred fantasies to life.

His resolve to wait those few short weeks lasted until he returned to the bedroom.

Sprawled face down on the covers, bare feet dangling over the edge, rather than an air of post orgasmic satisfaction, Dean seemed dejected. Wash kit safely placed back in his bag, Roman stopped at the foot of the bed, running a finger over the delicate skin of one tender, vulnerable arch. Snatching his foot back, Dean rolled over and pushed himself up to face his attacker.

“Fuck off.”

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“What do you mean what’s wrong with my face? It’s my face. It always looks like this.”

“You usually look a bit more happy once you’ve had some private time with your phone and gotten off,” Roman’s hand crept forward wrapping around Dean’s ankle. Dean’s eyes flickered to his foot at the touch before meeting Roman’s teasing smile.

“Yeah, well, I lost interest...they were doing it wrong and it took me out of the moment.”

“Wrong? Now I know you don’t kinkshame, so what do you mean _wrong_?”

The faintest flush coloured Dean’s cheeks as he dropped his gaze. A gentle tug of his leg from Roman caught his attention again.

“I was watching a bondage scene...and they were doing it wrong.”

This was promising. If Dean knew bad bdsm from good, then perhaps they might be on the same page.

“In what way?”

Dean took a breath before continuing, “He didn’t talk...when the sub was blindfolded, the dom didn’t talk...like not a word...that’s not cool. You just don’t do that. Communication...it’s all about communication…”

“You’re right.” The sudden alertness of Dean’s posture didn’t go unnoticed. Roman decided it was time to throw caution to the wind. Carefully, he tightened his grip around Dean’s ankle, and slowly dragged him down the length of the bed until he was able to let his foot fall to the floor. Switching his grasp to both of Dean’s wrists, Roman pulled him to his feet and two steps away from the bed.

Still holding on to Dean’s right wrist, Roman moved to stand behind him, covering Dean’s eyes with his free hand.

“We’re going to walk over to the chair and sit you down. There’s nothing in the way and I won’t let you stumble. We good? This what you mean?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Ok then, let’s go...few more steps, that’s you...and stop. Perfect.” Dean’s pulse raced under Roman’s grip at the praise. “Seat’s behind you, down you go.”

With only a little awkward manoeuvring, Roman managed to place each of Dean’s hands on his knees without uncovering his eyes, moving to stand behind him again once he was done. The chair wasn't exactly face on to the mirror, but it still allowed him enough of a view to realise just how utterly right this looked. He wanted to do more than just look, he wanted to touch this man, to get to know the body he already knew from the ring in an even more intimate way, but to do that he would need both hands. 

Roman glanced around him, looking for something he could use. Nothing to hand. He was going to have to improvise. 

Dropping his mouth to Dean's shoulder, he spoke in the seated man's ear. 

"I'm going to take my hand away, but I want you to keep your eyes closed. Can you do that for me?"

Dean nodded, a quiet sound of assent tumbling from his lips. 

Drawing his hand back from Dean’s face, Roman reached for the hem of the tank top he had sipped on before leaving the bathroom. In one smooth movement he whisked it over his head and with another, tore the shirt in two. The well worn, well washed, soft cotton ripped easily. Tucking one piece into the waistband of his boxers, Roman began to fold the other along its length. 

A glance towards the mirror rewarded him with the sight of Dean's reflection, eyes still closed, face relaxed, hands still resting lightly on his knees where Roman had placed them, only the tenting of his sweatpants and the scrunching of his bare toes against the carpet hinting at his true state. 

"That's good, Deano. You're such a good boy aren't you..."

Makeshift blindfold made to his satisfaction, Roman paused for a second. Taking this any further might be a terrible decision, one they and their fledgling team might not be able to come back from, no matter how handsome he found Dean to be, or how much he would like to explore this endearingly submissive side of his personality. 

"Rome...Roman? You ok back there…”

“I’m still here. I’m ok. How’re you? Still good? If you need to tap out…”

“No! Not tapping out.”

“Awesome. Now lean your head back for me just a little, that’s perfect just there,” Roman draped the folded cotton over Dean’s eyes, tying it off securely behind his head, hands lingering, cradling Dean’s head. “How does that feel? Can you see anything?”

“Nothing.”

Roman’s fingers slid round, following the line of Dean’s jaw, coming to rest splayed under his chin and across his throat.

“I had been wondering about you, about this...wondering if those little clues I thought I saw were real or just my wishful thinking. I wasn’t wrong though, was I, Dean? Do you want to be my good boy?”

Roman could feel Dean’s pulse quickening, could feel the muscles in his neck move as he swallowed before answering.

“Please. Please let me be your good boy, Roman.”

“Call me Daddy, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Tipping Dean’s head back further, Roman rewarded his new boy with the kiss he had been saving for him since long before they had been placed in their current team.

The line was well and truly crossed now. 

Magnificent though it was, a kiss was not enough, Roman still needed to feel Dean’s body. He pulled away from his boy’s chasing lips, leaning forward as he slid his hands down the other man's chest. 

“You're behaving so well, sitting so nicely, just like I asked,” Fingertips brushing against warm skin, Roman gripped the hem of Dean’s shirt and began to draw it upwards. “Lift your arms for me...that's it.”

Shirt discarded he spread his hands wide, sliding them across the bare skin of Dean's torso, gradually moving ever lower. 

“What's this babe? You hard for Daddy already? Just from my voice?” His right hand cupped Dean's rock hard bulge through the thick fabric of his sweatpants. 

“Yes Daddy, you have a real nice voice. Always gets me thinking of...of things…”

“That so?” Roman took his hand a way for a second, only to dip beneath the waistband of Dean's pants, smiling to himself at the discovery he wore nothing beneath, smile becoming a wicked grin as he curled his fingers around heated flesh and gave a few teasing strokes. Pulling his hand free, he left Dean's cock laying pointed towards his stomach, trapped by the elastic, weeping head slick and glossy with precome. 

Dean bucked his hips up following the heat of Roman's touch. Roman stilled him with a gentle kiss to the forehead. 

“All in good time Dean, all in good time. But first I want you to tell me one of the things my voice made you think. Just one.”

“This...made me think about this. About you telling me to call you Daddy, and telling me I’m your good boy. Wanted it for so long too. I wanna be good for you Ro...Daddy.”

Roman toyed with Dean’s nipples as the other man spoke, teasing the sensitive flesh into stiff peaks.

“Did that get you hot, babe? The thought of being my good boy?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Did you touch yourself? Did you touch yourself here?” Draping himself over Dean’s shoulder, Roman leaned forward and passed the pad of his thumb across Dean’s leaking cockhead.

“Yes Daddy.”

Still teasing Dean’s slit, Roman worked his way round to the front of the chair, nudging Dean’s knees apart with his own, letting go of his boy’s cock only once slotted between his thighs. He reached down and grasped Dean’s hand, bringing it up to rest on the bulging fabric of his boxers.

“Feel that baby boy? All because of you.” Peeling Dean’s hand away, Roman reached for the other, arranging them in front of Dean’s face, wrists touching.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to move from this chair over to the bed and by the time we get there we’re gonna be naked...and when we get there I’m going to make you feel so good babe.” He untucked the other half of his torn tank from where it dangled over his hip, folding it along the length again just as he had done for the blindfold. 

“Clasp your hands for me, sweetheart...that’s perfect.” Carefully he wound the cloth around Dean’s wrists, checking the tightness as he worked, readjusting where he felt it was needed until he was able to tie off the ends in a flat knot. Bond secured, Roman ran his hands down Dean’s forearms, coming to rest under his elbows so he could guide him to his feet.

“Up you come, baby boy. Now just stand still for me for a moment more.” Slowly so as not to knock Dean off his balance, Roman eased his sweatpants to the floor, steadying him as he stepped out. Shucking off his own boxers, and keeping contact with a light touch to Dean’s hip, Roman allowed himself the luxury of a moment to revel in the first full sight of his new boy, naked, bound and blindfolded before him.

Pulling Dean close Roman wrapped his arm around him, capturing a pert cheek in each broad hand, fingers tauntingly close to Dean’s cleft for a second before the were gone, squeezing and kneading the firm muscles.

“Still ok with this, baby boy? I mean what I said about tapping out.”

“No Daddy, I’m good. Super good. No tapping.”

“Ok then, babe. In that case I want you to slide your arms up, put them round my neck...and _hold tight_!”

Sliding his hands under his boy’s thighs, Roman hefted him into the air, Dean wrapping his long lean legs around Roman’s waist on instinct. Crossing the short distance to the bed, Roman climbed up onto it, Dean still wrapped around his neck and his middle like a baby sloth. Gently, as if Dean were some precious delicate thing instead of a strong, physical, reckless man, Roman laid him on the covers, remaining within the cradle of his spread legs as they fell from his waist.

His own bag, with the bottle of lube stashed in a hidden inner pocket was all the way across the room in the farthest corner, but with a little stretching he was able to reach Seth’s, fishing a bottle of body oil from where it was peeking out of the top. That would have to do.

Just one last thing remained.

Guiding Dean’s hands from around his neck, Roman leaned forward and hit the light switch panel on the nightstand, leaving them bathed only in the soft golden glow of the bedside lamps.

“I need to see those beautiful eyes of yours, baby boy. Your hands are staying like they are, but the blindfold is coming off. Just close your eyes for a couple of seconds so the light isn’t too much.”

“They’re closed, Daddy.” Dean lifted his head to help Roman pull the blindfold free, dutifully keeping his eyes closed for a few seconds, before opening them to gaze up at the other man, adoration, lust and disbelief flickering across his gaze, a warm smile chasing them all away to take their place.

With the time and the need for words passed, Roman poured some of the borrowed oil into the palm of his hand, and looking away from Dean’s face for a brief moment, grasped both their cocks together.

Slow, testing strokes quickly gave way to a frenzied pace. Dean squirmed underneath Roman, face flushed with pleasure, bound hands grasping at the air, summoning Roman down to kiss and be kissed. His boy’s noisy pleasure and need and the sheer joy of finally being where he belonged had Roman hurtling towards orgasm.

“Baby boy, you going to come for Daddy?”

“Yes Daddy, I’m so close…”

“Good boy, so am I.”

A few more wicked pumps was all it took to have Roman spilling over his hand, Dean following almost immediately, adding his release to the mess between them. Roman fought the urge to wrap Dean up in his arms for precisely as long as it took him to untie the other man’s wrists, rolling over onto his back the instant they were freed, capturing Dean’s body with a cage of his own limbs, capturing his lips with a soul searing kiss.

Before the warm fuzzy afterglow could draw them into slumber, Roman manoeuvred them to the edge of the bed, sitting upright with Dean still wrapped up in his arms.

His boy needed some water, perhaps one of those granola bars he had hunted down earlier, and they both needed a shower, but first things first.

"This isn't over, baby boy."

Dean peeled his head away from Roman’s shoulder, adorably drowsy enough that Roman felt bad for disturbing him.

“No?”

“I meant what I said, I was hoping for this for a long while...you and me...like this if you want it. I don’t want it to be a one time thing but if you need some time to think about it that’s ok too.”

“No time needed,” Dean snuggled against Roman’s broad chest. “I’m definitely down to see where we go from here... _Daddy_.”

**Author's Note:**

> This came into being after a conversation about some less than perfect BDSM etiquette spotted in some 'filmed entertainment' and the discussion it prompted with dearest CBD on tumblr...and if you're at all concerned about the boys embarking on a little play without proper negotiations, never fear, they've got that discussion ahead of them :)


End file.
